Quotidian life

No wonderful trips to report this time, just chronicles of our quotidian life.
Iris is toddling and destroying.

  This is why the kids don't like her in their room.

   "Mom, did you really think you could hide the marbles? I dug and now I will partake."

Claire has started making representational drawings: according to her interpretation, our family is full of ballooned heads and stick legs. Quite insightful, except I'd argue my stick legs are more of a goal than a reality. Enjoys school, although she still refers to it as "Elijah's escuela."

Revving up for halloween. Her collage of snot and marker is the work of a true artist. 

Elijah stuck a pencil in a classmate's eye. Nurse's office, ER, ophthamologist. Mexico is full of hyperbole, nevertheless, I felt bad for the child and of course we apologized profusely to the parents on several occasions.

Karen fainted at the pulpit a few Sundays ago.
The dishwasher, whom we affectionately refer to as "Caroline," continues to wash dishes. all.day.long.
While Iris is still malleable, David is trying to convince her that she loves him more than me. She agrees most of the time, for now.

Dear Mexico,

I'm in love again. Bigamy is on order. It was a rocky start, but Mexico I forgive you. It took getting out of your city traffic and smog to driving down twisting country roads, discovering your rich history, breathing your life. I love that every town is centered around a beautiful church. Maybe it says something about the faith of your people. Yes, they get in my face and tell me to dress my kids better or not let my child write on herself or not let them run wild. Maybe it's the American in me that hates them butting into my world. But the Mexican in me (by marriage, if you will accept my hand) is starting to realize that afterall, it's good natured: they think my kids are cold, or look like a hookers (see Claire's "make-up" below), or that they will be kidnapped. And even though I don't always agree, thanks for caring.
XOXO,
An intruder.

We took a day trip to Tlaxcala.

 

Monastery of San Fransisco founded by the Franciscans around 1536.

Kids with their skeleton faces.

 

Iris is discovering Mexico via the flora. She has eaten leaves, branches, and dirt in cities around the country. There is no better expert on the vegetative characteristics of a country than one who has tasted them. From a gustatory standpoint, I wonder which area is the best? If only she could discourse.

El Palacio del Gobierno had murals depicting the history of the area. The locals helped Cortez conquer the Aztec capital of Tenochitlan, now Mexico City. This building was another one of Cortes' homes.

Grasshoppers. This time E partook also. Top right (below), he is catching the brother of the one he just ate. 

The irony.

Also, bottom right, I love eating prickly pear, or nopal. Good stuff.

 

Then we drove to Cacaxtla.

The site is known for the vibrant murals (these pictures don't do them justice).

Independence Day

September 16th is Mexico's Independence day--celebrating the declaration of war of independence from Spain (201 years ago in Dolores) and the revolution from a dictatorial president (101 years ago).
The kids dressed up for school.

David and I wanted to attend the traditional "Grito" that night which is when the president re-enacts the call to arms, but due to misinformation on the time and place of the Grito, we missed it. We did make it the Monumento de la Revolucion where the remains of Pancho Villa and other heroes lie.

After more than 2 hours of walking, we arrived at the Zocalo, where the Grito was held earlier. There were the remains of a massive shaving cream/confetti fight.
The next day was the military parade.

 

Of course, the one time E decides to be patriotic to the US, is at the Mexican Independence day parade. 

Future ambassador:

Wait, was that guy pointing his automatic at E's head? We'll have to work on the diplomatic relations.

Then some more confetti-filled eggs and shaving cream:

That afternoon we had good friends over who made pozole for us, the traditional Independence Day soup.

Guanajuato

Picking out a pinata for D's bday

Elijah, of course, picked the Mexican flag man. The child is obsessed.

The next day we went to Guanajuato.

BFFs chillin at the hotel pool:

Guanajuato is the birthplace of Diego Rivera:

The city center was one of the more beautiful places I've been.

The city is also filled with history. We rode a fincular (below, left) to the top of a hill to visit the Pipila monument. 

See Pipila monument below, on the left.

Pípila (Spanish word for a hen turkey) was, as the story goes, a young man born with defects both mental and physical. His physical deformities caused him to walk in a fashion not unlike the hen turkey—which brought about his nickname—and he was an object of ridicule.
Pípila was a miner and became famous for an act of heroism near the very beginning of the Mexican War of Independence, on 28 September 1810. The insurrection had begun in the nearby town of Dolores, and soon moved to the city of Guanajuato, where the Spanish barricaded themselves–along with plenty of silver and other riches–in a grain warehouse known as the Alhóndiga de Granaditas (below, top right). The granary was a stone fortress with high stone walls, but its wooden door proved to be an Achilles' heel.

With a long, flat stone tied to his back to protect him from the muskets of the Spanish troops, Pípila carried tar and a torch to the door of the Alhóndiga and set it on fire. The insurgents–who far outnumbered the Spanish in the warehouse–stormed inside and killed all the soldiers and the civil Spanish refugees. [wikipedia]~~We get tours  at these places, so technically I should know this stuff without looking it up, but I'm the self-designated kid-wrestler.

Looking out over the city at the base of the monument:

We also drove to Dolores (mentioned above). "Desde este  lugar arengo el padre de la patria al pueblo reunido en el atrio la mañana del 16 de septiembre de 1810."

We enjoyed the town for a few hours. Breakfast of strawberry tamales and chocolate atole (above, bottom  right). The local panaderia was abuzz and nobody seemed to mind (bottom, right).

David = old

Happy Bday my man! I'll probably gift-wrap the economy pack of licorice you bought yourself a few days ago, but don't worry, I'm sure you'll read this post after, so it will still be a surprise.

On with life! First, a test. Which creature below is a Cuban aligator?

Looking for a lifeline? Abuela Maria has asked E several times what nationality he is. Frankly, the poor boy is confused. He usually says "Mexican" just to bask in her negative reaction, but the truth is, he recognizes the Mexican flag readily and not the American, and throwing French into the mix isn't helping the matter. When we were living in the airport about a month ago, someone asked him whether he spoke Spanish and he responded with, "Quoi?"

Our last day in USA, we spent swimming at my parents' place. Claire confidently taught herself how to swim, and she wasn't too bad, besides the coming up to breath part.
School started 2 days after we got home. Claire screamed, kicked her teacher, but got a "get out of jail free" card for the rest of the week when she got a nasty virus.

Poor Iris got it too and it landed her in the ER and then the hospital for over a day (the sodium levels in her blood were dangerously high).  Below is a picture I took of her in the hospital.

This past weekend we took a quick trip to Cuernavaca. First we visited the impressive cathedral which dates back to the16th century and was built to double as a fortress.

dealt with some rain

city center

Inside the Palacio de Cortes. Built by Hernán Cortés, it was finished in 1535 and housed him and his descendants  for several centuries. It is one of the oldest European-style, civil constructions in the Americas.

Below, C & D are checking out a Diego Rivera mural.

Xochicalco

Can you tell how much I love David in this pic?

Iris contemplating the ball feild.

temple of the feathered serpant:

Elijah, the true scientist, collected worms

and weapons

While C reverently contemplated the Olmeca-Xicallanca site.

After a pleasant trip, we got back to a disaranged apartment. Several drawers were open. There was what looked like blood all over the counter (it was spilled water-purifying liquid). And the doorknob on the back door was broken. Now I can officailly say, "I HAVE EXPERIENCED MEXICO." It comes with a badge and a blackened heart. What a range of emotions: surprised, appauled, excited that I'm finally official, baffled, and then offended. We searched our belongings. Nothing gone. Not a peso--at least not of ours-- Karen had 500 pesos (under $50) stollen from her dresser. Yes, we are worthless human beings, with worthless belingings. Please, horrible men, you could have at least helped yourself to a fruit-by-the-foot; give a woman a little dignity! Or how about diaper ointment? Tempting?
Anyway, the mode of entrance into the building is a mystery, or as mysterious as corruption can be. They started at the top and moved their way down. By the time they got to our apartment, they had entered a few places and had already stollen several 1000s of $ of property--they opened a safe in one apartment and stole 4 golden coins and an expensive watch in another. Then they got to number 9. Come to think of it, I haven't counted the rotting lemons, one might defnintely be missing. After us, they entered an apartment where the deaf/mute maid was right at the door. They saw her, panicked, exited, and then tried to re-enter, but she had barred the door. They ran away and she couldn't notify the guard downstairs via phone for obvious reasons. We got home shortly after the excitement. Police came, congregated, and left. Thanks cops, always knew you had a knack for nothing. So, David went to the police office to file a report and was told to file online, besides, they said, Karen might have just misplaced that $. Finally someone influential in our building called someone else influential and 2 days later, several groups of "peritos" (once again I was tricked into thinking that detective dogs would be coming over--Perritos. Double "r," single "r," all the same to a gringa.) came and dusted our apartment for the fingerprints I had already cleaned away. Please people--am I really going to leave my house in dissaray for 2 days? Actually, I'll plead the 5th on that one.
So no evidence was found and my rotting lemon is forever gone.